


Picky Eater

by orionCipher



Series: IgNoct Week 2017 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionCipher/pseuds/orionCipher
Summary: TIMED QUEST: Day 2Prompt: Noctis eats his vegetables





	Picky Eater

Ignis is not crying, honestly. Yet.

In the last 24 hours Noctis has gone from a relatively easygoing companion to a furious bundle of hatred focused entirely on the removal of vegetables from his diet. All kids tend to hit that point eventually, but this? This was a bit far.

“For the last time, bread is not a vegetable!”

“YES IT IS!!!”

The shouting match in the kitchen has been going on like this for nearly an hour and Ignis is… probably only twenty minutes shy of having a full on breakdown. Someone somewhere said something to the 11 year old who, if that explosion was anything to go by, just set off a massive thunder spell in the kitchen. May the Six have mercy if he ever finds the rat bastard who started this, he decides as drywall sprinkles down on him like rain, because he is fresh. Out.

The air is crackling as the yelling resumes, and the resulting static cling is doing funny things with his hair that make him look like a dandelion. Distantly he acknowledges that the twitch in his cheek is starting to spread to his eye.

Not a full minute later and Noctis barrels out the door, slamming into Ignis with open arms and half hiding behind him.

“Tell him!,” he yells, pointing at the man in the ruined chef’s uniform that looks about as well as Ignis feels.

“Tell him what, highness?” His words are a bit stilted and have more bite than he intended, but Noctis doesn’t seem to notice.

“That tomatoes are vegetables!”

They aren’t, but since 13 is a touch too young for a stroke, “…Yep.”

The chef is staring at him incredulously through the scorch marks on his face, but he just raises a brow.

Every man for themselves.

Noct is blowing raspberries and Ignis is ready for death. Or a nap. He’s not terribly picky right now, but those little princely hands are now bundled in his shirt, tugging so enthusiastically it’s become untucked.

“Yes?” he asks with a sigh.

“Can we have soup?”

Oh, right.

The chef, now watching with disgust, was in the middle of making them some sandwiches for lunch when Noctis decided to do his impromptu remodeling. That meant that if they wanted to eat, Ignis would have to make it. Given the current state of the kitchen, his own dwindling sanity and patience, and his overall unwillingness to cook on a weekend , that meant, “We only have leftovers, Noctis.”

“Ok?”

“And the only leftover soup we have is carrot.”

“Ok! That one’s yummy!”

“…So you’re ok with eating carrot soup?”

The chef almost laughed, but managed to choke it back when Ignis glared at him with murder in his eyes. Clearly there was some kind of communication error here, but really, fuck it. Ignis wanted that nap – had earned that nap - and if all it took was some carrot soup then that’s what would happen.

“Yeah! Your carrot soup's the best!”

Almost sadistically Ignis smiled, wide and with too many teeth.

“Then, if I reheat it, you have to promise to finish it all.”

“I will!”

And he did.


End file.
